Evil Never Dies (The Lizzy Gardner Series Book 6) by T.R. Ragan Page A

night.”
    “You’re not following Wayne Bennett on your own, are you?”
    “Why do you want to know?”
    “The man is dangerous.”
    “He’s no different than the others on our list.”
    “Since the disappearance of Miriam Walters, we agreed that Wayne Bennett should be a two-man surveillance at all times.”
    “Gotta go.”
    She disconnected the call. It was growing dark now, but the traffic was light, making for an easy tail. A mile and a half later, he took a right onto a lonely-looking street. As Lizzy drove on past, she saw his brake lights flash halfway down the block. After pulling a quick U-turn, she eased to the curb at the intersection in time to see a garage door finish opening and Bennett pull the car inside. Lizzy watched the door clamp shut.
    What the hell was going on? She’d been expecting Bennett to pull into an abandoned warehouse or a parking lot, but a house?
    After walking up the block for the street number, she returned to her car and called the police. She reported suspicious activity at the address, then dialed Kitally’s number. She didn’t want to knock on the door and give herself up too early. What if Bennett was there to pick up another girl? But why would he have pulled his car inside the garage?
    “What’s up?” Kitally asked.
    “I need you to use the Realtor database and look up an address for me. I need to know who a certain house belongs to at 552 Indian Drive in West Sac.”
    After Lizzy was put on hold, she rolled down her window to get a better look at the neighborhood. A dog barked in the distance. The row of houses on both sides of the street across from her looked the same, mostly one-story homes with small yards. Despite the zip-up hoodie she wore, shivers coursed up her arms. Thoughts of Jared drifted over her just as Kitally came back on the line, saving her from feeling the wave of darkness that came over her every time memories surfaced.
    “You’re not going to believe this,” Kitally said. “Most of the houses in that area belong to the JR Millennial Company, owed by Wayne Bennett himself.”
    “Interesting,” Lizzy said. “If you could find out how many homes he owns in the Sacramento area, that would be appreciated. Just give me the information when I see you next, OK?”
    “Not a problem. Be careful.”
    Lizzy disconnected the call. She focused her attention back on the house into which she’d seen Wayne Bennett disappear.
    The lights were on. No cries for help. Nothing unusual. The police were notoriously slow. Nothing new there, either. More than anything, she wanted to knock down the door and catch him in the act. She considered doing a search around the perimeter of the house. In the end, if she really wanted to get this guy, she needed to be patient. She needed to do things by the book.
    At least for now.
    At last she was relieved to see the lights of a police cruiser headed her way. The cruiser turned down the street and pulled into the driveway of the address she’d given the dispatcher. Two cops exited the vehicle, went to the door, and knocked.
    It was a long while before the door opened.
    One of the officers tried to peek inside, but his partner put a hand in front of his chest to stop him. They were talking to whoever had answered the door. Even smiling.
    What were they doing?“Go inside,”she muttered under her breath.
    From the looks of it, they weren’t going to do anything at all.
    She’d had enough. She turned off the video.
    Fuck doing things the right way—staying low and keeping out of sight—all bullshit. She got out of her car, slammed the door shut, and marched down the middle of the street toward the house.
    She joined the officers at the door.
    Bennett looked disheveled. No jacket or tie. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, low enough to see a smattering of chest hair.
    “Ma’am,” one of the officers said, “I’m going to have to ask you to back off.”
    “Not until you enter the house and talk to the young